The Dark Side of the Moon
by SnorkackCatcher
Summary: Remus Lupin has a ... particular interest in Luna Lovegood. But purely paternal, of course! Naturally.


Remus listened in sick horror to the words that the silver doe appeared to be speaking.

"…_Unable to find them in Forest. Probably making for Ministry._"

"Right then, let's get going!" cried Sirius the instant the Patronus began to fade. Kingsley spluttered and Moody growled in negation, but Remus was too distracted to pay proper attention to them – or even to a grimacing Tonks, who was evidently trying to send a _talk-to-him-you-idiot_ message in his general direction.

"Which is the quickest way into the Ministry?" he asked her. "Via the visitor's entrance, or can you and Kingsley get us three there by Side-Along using your Apparition access?"

"What? Remus, _he_ can't go …"

"Oh yes I bloody can, if Harry's in trouble …"

"No _time_," interrupted Remus, fighting a choking sense of panic. "If we stop to argue, they could _all_ have been killed by the time we get there."

-----

Remus didn't quite know what to expect as he took the register for his first lesson with the second-years. It had been a pleasure to see Harry's group, but _this_ one would be very different.

"Kendrick, Melanie."

"Here."

"Leach, Alfred."

"That's me!"

"Lovegood, Luna."

There was no reply. He hesitated as the class broke out in giggles; the girl who had failed to answer to the name Luna Lovegood was easy for him to recognise. She was staring out of the window, apparently lost in thought, and from the tone of the giggling it seemed likely that this was a regular occurrence. The girl sitting in the desk behind Luna leaned over and poked her in the back, and she started and looked up.

"None of that, please," said Remus, annoyed. "I was calling the register, Luna."

"Oh, I'm here," she said dreamily, although renewed giggles and mutters from the rest of the class suggested that they thought otherwise.

He watched her closely as the lesson progressed; it was clear that the others regarded her as rather odd, and if he was being honest with himself – they had a point. But that was no justification at all for the way they were obviously picking on her. When the bell rang, she packed her bag rather slowly while the others filed out for break, and after a moment he cleared his throat and said, "Luna?"

She looked up. "Yes, Professor?"

"Are you … all right? Your classmates seemed to be teasing you a little."

"Oh, they do that. It's a bit silly really." She sounded completely unconcerned, but Remus suspected that underneath, she was hurting. He recognised the behaviour pattern – he'd reacted the same way to cruel remarks about werewolves … He suddenly realised that she was staring at him. Her eyes didn't seem to blink very often, which was somewhat disconcerting. "Is there something else, Professor?"

"Not really … you know, you look just like your mother," he said awkwardly. The resemblance was obvious.

Luna's face took on extra animation. "I didn't know you knew her."

"Ah well, we were at school at the same time. When I was your age, she was a prefect." Or, as he'd preferred to think of it at the time, an untouchable, unreachable goddess.

"Oh, I see. I miss her, you know," she added unexpectedly.

"Yes … yes, I'm sure you must. She was a fine person. Well … off you go, Luna. Don't let people pick on you."

"I don't mind much. Daddy always said not to pay attention to people who were ignorant."

Remus coughed. From all he'd heard of Xenophilius Lovegood, that was one of the most sensible things he'd ever said. "Very wise man, your father. Don't forget the essay."

She nodded and left, still maintaining that slightly unnerving air of calm, and Remus couldn't help but wonder how much of her 'oddness' was due to her genetic heritage – and how much simply the result of being brought up by someone who was, after all, editor of _The Quibbler_.

-----

"What do you think?"

Remus removed Tonks' hands from where she had placed them playfully over his eyes, turned around, and recoiled. "What _is_ that?" The words came out far more harshly than he'd intended, and the face of his unexpected (but thoroughly welcome) girlfriend fell.

"I was trying for the Veela style. Thought you might find it fun!" She inspected the waist-length hair she had Metamorphosed and smiled ruefully. "Oh right, _dirty_ blonde, not silvery. For some reason it's a bugger trying to get the colour right when I grow it this long. Having to concentrate on both at once, I suppose."

"Put it back?" He managed to keep his voice even. "Er, I prefer brunettes, actually. Or pink, of course," he added hastily.

Tonks snorted. "Right. Whatever makes your wand spark. Most men seem to go for this sort of thing from the moment their voice breaks."

He forced a smile, and a distracting answer. "I'll never be like most men, will I?"

She rolled her eyes at this, but fortunately made no further comment – other than to turn her hair a particularly violent shade of pink.

-----

The letter from Dumbledore was a request, not a command – a mere suggestion, not Order business in any formal sense. But the message was clear: a talented young potioneer by the name of Madam Lovegood had asked Lily if she knew of a trustworthy werewolf who could help her test some new theories by Damocles Belby. It would be of great value if she could be brought into the Order, or at least kept away from the orbit of the Death Eaters.

So Remus allowed his name to be put forward, and a clandestine meeting was duly arranged in an obscure Muggle pub in the back streets of Plymouth. It was only when he arrived there that he realised who 'Madam Lovegood' actually was.

It was the first time he had ever actually spoken more than three words to Marie Gamp … no, _Lovegood_. She was married now, and at that consideration, the little flicker of embarrassing schoolboyish hope that he'd felt upon seeing her again out of the blue withered away. It was foolish to the point of insanity anyway. He was there as an acknowledged werewolf – there was no way she would ever have taken any interest in him. Then again, since he was several years younger than she was and nothing much to look at into the bargain, there was little chance that she would have in any case.

Fortunately, Marie Lovegood proved to be unsusceptible to embarrassment and extremely easy to talk to, and to his surprise and delight had no problem with talking to a werewolf – indeed, apart from his parents, Dumbledore, and his fellow Marauders, she seemed freer of anti-werewolf prejudice than anyone he'd ever met.

"Why did you want to do this particular research, Madam Lovegood?" he asked towards the end of the evening as they prepared to leave.

"Marie, please. Oh, I suppose because of the challenge of seeing if Belby's ideas have any merit, and because it's worth doing, isn't it? It could help lots of people." She smiled at him, a smile that left him dizzy and admitting ruefully to himself that he was still more than a little starstruck. "And I suppose my husband's obsession with unusual creatures might have rubbed off on me!"

Remus had forgotten the husband again, and the dizziness was abruptly replaced by disappointment. "What do you mean, obsession?"

"Oh, he makes it his business to seek for Blibbering Humdingers and things like that, you know?" She got up, and after a moment's hesitation took a photograph from her handbag. "That's us – the cast he's holding is supposed to be a Humdinger footprint. I don't know if it _is_, Remus, I haven't a clue what they're supposed to look like. Xenophilius thinks so, though."

Remus looked at the picture; he was very surprised to note that Xenophilius Lovegood not only appeared highly eccentric, but was older than he'd expected. Decidedly older than his wife, in fact, with hair that was almost entirely grey – which made Remus feel considerably better about the one or two such hairs he'd spotted in the mirror. But in some obscure way, it hurt his pride that a woman like Marie would have married a much older man like Xenophilius. "I see," he said, handing the photo back and trying not to be rude; the cast looked like a simple dragon footprint to him. "Well, I'm no expert. Nice talking to you, Marie. Let me know when you want to start?"

"A few days time, I think. It's the build-up to the full moon – oh, silly me, of course you know that better than I do, don't you? I'll be in touch."

He watched her long blonde hair swinging behind her as she left, and realised to his disquiet and annoyance that he still found her as attractive as ever.

-----

One of the unforeseen benefits of his teaching job was the opportunity to reminisce with Hagrid, who remembered the Marauders well and – provided they stayed well away from the subject of Sirius – was always willing to talk about old escapades, old pranks, old girlfriends … well, not that last one so much in his case, although that didn't stop Hagrid gently teasing Remus on the subject of his lack of activity in that department.

As he walked briskly back from Hagrid's hut along the edge of the Forbidden Forest, he saw a slight movement out of the corner of his eye. He whipped round, then stared in momentary confusion at the small figure sitting cross-legged on the grass. He approached it. It _was_ who he thought it was.

"_Luna?_ You shouldn't be out here near the Forest all alone! It's dangerous, and it's well past the hour second-years should be inside anyway."

"Oh, is it?" Luna blinked, and stood up. "I'm sorry, Professor, I lost track of time." She hesitated. "Please don't take points from Ravenclaw. It's my fault, not my housemates …"

He hadn't failed to notice the tremor in her voice, and had no intention of giving the girl's fellow Ravenclaws additional reasons to taunt her. "That's all right, Luna, as long as you go in now we don't need to say anything more about this." As she turned to go, he just had to ask. "But what were you _doing _here in the first place?"

"I was hoping a Blibbering Humdinger would come out. Daddy told me that they leave their hiding places in forests when the moon rises, so sometimes I come out here to look."

"I see." Remus privately cursed Xenophilius Lovegood for making Luna a target by passing his own eccentricities onto her, but then he was hardly in a position to complain. "Well, you could catch your death of cold, so perhaps you'd better postpone your investigations for now."

"Perhaps you're right, Professor," said Luna solemnly. She looked up at the sky. "Don't you think the moonlight is very beautiful? I suppose I've always liked it because I was named after the moon, you know."

Remus winced, and counted himself lucky that clouds across the satellite in question made it hard for Luna to see his expression. "I've never been that keen on it myself. Luna's a nice name though."

"Yes. Thank you for calling me Luna," she added unexpectedly. "Most people just call me Lovegood – or Loony."

"They _shouldn't_," he said thickly. "You're just … a bit different from most people, that's all, that's no reason to be cruel to you. But I'm afraid that happened even when I was at school. You're still a good person, don't worry about it … You are _remarkably_ like your mother, you know."

"People tell me I look like her," said Luna with a hint of pride.

"You do." He smiled. "And Harry – Potter, that is – takes after his father. People often do. I'm not sure if it's a good thing or not. Sometimes, it's like you see them as their parent all over again."

-----

"I don't suppose the Order can do much, but thank you for letting us know, Arthur." Somehow, Remus kept his voice even at the grim news that his friend had just imparted via the Floo. What a wonderful Christmas present!

"What's up, Remus?" He spun round at the sound of his wife's voice; she sounded uncertain, and had evidently only caught the end of what Arthur was saying. Something must have shown on his face, as her expression dropped. "Is it Harry?"

"No, no, not Harry." He fought the urge to curse something. "Ginny Weasley reports that the Hogwarts Express was stopped on the way back to London. Death Eaters came on board and … well, they took Luna Lovegood off at wandpoint."

Tonks' hands flew to her mouth. "The girl who helped Harry? Wait a minute, _Xeno_ Lovegood's daughter? Because of what he's been saying in _The Quibbler_, you mean?"

"Must be." And to think he'd actually been pleased that the old loon had been printing articles in support of Harry; it had just never dawned on him or anyone else in the Order that this would be the obvious counter. He shuddered and began to pace up and down. "After all, the easiest way to bring pressure on people who don't toe the Ministry line is to threaten their kids, isn't it? I … well, I don't even like to _think_ what might happen to her."

"Nor me." Tonks' face was grim; neither of them had any problem imagining what the Death Eaters might do to her, or to _their_ child once born. The possibilities were playing in Remus' head in vivid, excruciating detail.

-----

"Why don't you just _propose_ to her, Moony?"

"Because she can do far better for herself than a knackered old werewolf like me."

"Bullshit."

"It is _not_ bullshit." Remus turned back to the tea he was making to avoid Sirius' scathing expression, and because it was hard to keep his own expression neutral while he was being treated to an authentic 'Padfoot Knows Best' diatribe. "I should never have been so stupid as to let Tonks get involved with me in the first place. I'm far too old for her – she might not think so _now_, but once the first flush of romance wears off, it would never work. Anyway, can you really see me as a family man?" he added, wanting to change the subject. "As a father?"

Sirius chuckled. "First things first, Remus. You two have hardly got that far yet. But if you ever do, you'd make a bloody good father – far better than I am as a godfather," he finished bitterly.

"And if I passed on my … furry little problem? And do you really think that people would find it acceptable for an Auror to be romantically involved with a werewolf? Better that I stay away from her altogether."

Remus didn't need to look to know that Sirius was rolling his eyes. "If she doesn't care, I don't see why it's anyone else's business. And you wouldn't pass it on. It can only be transmitted by bite, and you know _better_ than that. You'd be safe."

"I don't _always_ know better than that!" He turned to his old friend in sudden anger. "Padfoot, barely two years ago you had to hold me back by force from biting a bunch of kids – _including Harry_! How the hell can you sit there and say I'd be safe? It would be bad enough to bite _anybody_, but it would be a hundred times worse to bite somebody I cared about!"

Sirius paled, but kept his voice even. "That was a one-off under extreme circumstances and you bloody _know_ that, Moony."

"Was it? Would anyone ever believe that with someone like Greyback going around biting their kids? Can't you see, people will _never_ think of a werewolf as anything but a threat! We should never get romantically involved with _anyone_!"

-----

Working with Marie Lovegood proved to be both easy and difficult … in more ways than one.

The work itself was difficult, of course; attempting to put Belby's theories into practice resulted in some thoroughly unpleasant concoctions for him to try, none of which actually had much of an effect on his transformations. But Marie herself remained extremely easy to get along with … she could get a little _too_ focused on her research sometimes, he had to admit, and she was sometimes forthright to the point of tactlessness, but nonetheless delightful with it.

That was the _other_ difficult part. It made it hard to keep his mind strictly focused on what was supposed to be a purely business relationship when he enjoyed her company so much. Familiarity signally failed to promote indifference to her looks; indeed, it seemed to heighten his awareness of them. And it didn't help his frustration that perforce they found themselves meeting quite often, and always in some location well away from other wizarding eyes.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" he said diffidently one afternoon, as they sat watching the tide go out in a cove near a small village in North Cornwall he'd never previously heard of.

"Why not?" she answered with a smile. "I've asked you for every little detail of your full moon nights, so it's only fair."

"Yes, but _you're_ supposed to. I'm just a werewolf who's helping you with your research," he said, feeling slightly self-conscious.

"Oh no, it's more like a friend helping me out!" Remus felt himself colour slightly, and she shook her head. "Oh, Remus, don't be like that. You're a good, brave man, whatever most people think about werewolves. Now what did you want to ask?"

That reply made it ten times harder to ask the question. "Um, well, that is to say … er, Xenophilius?" he stammered, and with a sinking feeling he noticed her smile fade. "I'm sorry, it's nothing to do with me …"

"… why I married a much older man like him?" she finished, and his blush deepened as he nodded. "No, that's a very fair question. Everyone asks it sooner or later … including me." Startled, he raised his eyebrows in mute inquiry. "To be honest with you, I should have listened to the people who told me it was a bad idea to even get involved with an older man, let alone _marry_ him. Oh, you think you're in love with them, and they think they're in love with you – but the first flush of romance soon wears off. They're set in their ways, it all becomes terribly constricting, and it never really works out."

"I'm sorry, Marie," he said uncomfortably. "I shouldn't have asked – I didn't mean to pry."

"Yes you did then." Her sad smile took the sting from the words. "Xeno is a nice enough man – he's just not the man I thought he was when I was a starstruck teenager, straight out of Hogwarts. I saw him as a fearless crusader and researcher. He saw me as … well, I'm not sure really. Perhaps more of an assistant than a wife, or maybe the daughter he never had."

Remus fidgeted; this was rather more information than he'd bargained for.

"He's become increasingly eccentric ever since we married – I'm afraid his 'journalism' is really just all about printing strange tales that people tell him. I had to start doing some proper research of my own, or I'd have gone mad stuck in the house with him all day. And he's not very interested in … the physical side of things," she added with a slight blush, looking away – to Remus' immense relief, as he knew his own face must have turned bright scarlet at that last remark. "I don't suppose I'll ever be a mother with Xeno."

That caught his attention. "I don't suppose I'll ever be a father with _anyone_," he said, trying not to sound too bitter.

"Still no girlfriend yet?" she asked sympathetically.

He snorted, and turned away to watch the waves recede so that she couldn't see his face. "No. Someone like me? What decent woman would look at me?"

There was no reply, which didn't surprise him. There really wasn't any convincing answer that she could give as consolation. After a few moments he managed to fix on a smile and turned back to her – then recoiled in surprise. She had moved closer, too close for comfort actually, and her expression was a strange mixture of uncertainty and determination.

"_I_ would, Remus," she whispered, and suddenly he felt her lips on his. Somewhere at the back of his mind, he knew that this was inadvisable to the point of insanity, but he found himself returning her kiss – and any further uncertainty from either of them soon gave way to expressions of long-felt yearning.

-----

So _that_ was Xenophilius Lovegood.

As Remus stared at the man across the dancefloor, through a gap that had opened up among the wedding guests, he realised that he'd never actually _seen_ him before, despite all the conversations in which his words and activities had been mentioned. Remus tried to size Xenophilius up; he didn't seem to have changed all that much from the dim recollection of his photograph, except that his hair was now completely white. So, despite the extra grey hairs of his own, Remus still had him beat on that count, at least …

"What are you staring at, then?"

He turned to see his wife grinning at him. _She'd_ chosen blonde hair again today in honour of the bride; this was as disconcerting as ever, but at least on this occasion it was collar-length and reasonably silvery.

"Just old Lovegood," he replied calmly. "Odd-looking, isn't he?"

"Well, to be fair, he looks exactly like you'd _expect_ the editor of _The Quibbler_ to look. If he dressed up in pinstripes like old Crouch and got a short back and sides, you'd feel a bit cheated, wouldn't you?"

Remus sniggered. He watched with narrowed eyes as Luna went over to Xenophilius; he had profound doubts about the old eccentric's suitability as a raiser of children, but there was no doubt that Luna herself adored him. She seemed positively starry-eyed as she talked to her daddy – doubtless the topic of conversation was Crumple-Horned Snorkacks or something equally bizarre, but still, she looked in good spirits. Indeed tonight, among her friends, the girl had been as happy as he'd ever seen her. It left him feeling both pleased and oddly jealous.

There was a whisper in his ear. "Just think, Remus. In a few years' time, _our_ kid will be looking like that. Just as proud of their father."

He turned his gaze to Tonks, who was beaming at him, and he forced a smile in return. "You really think so?" He tried hard, but couldn't manage to keep all traces of bitterness and cynicism from his voice.

Tonks reached up and took his chin in her hand, turning his head so that they were staring into each other's eyes. "Yes, Remus. I _know_ so. You'll make a great father."

"You know how disgusted your colleagues were by the idea …"

"I couldn't give a toss." Tonks' expression turned stony. "If some people don't like the fact that we're having a baby together, that's their problem, not ours!"

Remus nodded obediently; but as he looked into the shining eyes of the woman he'd found love with, he couldn't help but remember that 'some people' included most of the wizarding world. He felt sickeningly certain that they would _make_ it a problem for both her and the baby.

-----

The pleasurable feeling of nostalgia at having the Marauder's Map back in his possession almost made up for his alarm at the way Harry had used it – the same way _they'd_ used it, back in the days when he was young and irresponsible. Although now he was _old_ and irresponsible, because Sirius would surely hide out in dog form, and the Map was the only thing Remus knew of that would reveal his presence. But somehow, he couldn't bear the idea of Dumbledore's disappointment if he told him.

So Remus checked the map almost obsessively in the evenings, scanning the grounds for a sign of Sirius, and checking to make sure that Harry hadn't sneaked out. And then – he couldn't help himself – he looked for Luna. He'd tried to do his best for her all year, very firmly squashing attempts by her fellow students to torment her – and he'd tried to keep her focused on the very real creatures he was teaching in class, not the rumoured ones that Xenophilius had talked about at home.

On the whole, he thought the girl had actually come to be friendly towards him, even to trust him – which was probably unwise, but nonetheless gratifying, especially as she didn't appear to have any real friends among her contemporaries. Whenever he saw her, she always seemed to be alone.

She really was the image of her mother …

So when he saw a dot with her name on the map, at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, he pursed his lips, then sighed and went to find her. She was sitting on the grass again, staring into the Forest without blinking.

"Luna, I told you not to come down here," he said without preamble, more bluntly than he'd intended, and she jumped.

"Oh! Professor Lupin!"

"Don't tell me, let me guess. You're waiting to see if the Blibbering Humdingers come out?"

"Yes, Professor." Her expression was hopeful. "I'm sorry – but the weather's getting warmer now, I won't catch my death of cold …"

"Never mind that," he said in exasperation. "It's still _dangerous_."

Her eyes searched his. "I know you said that, sir, but I didn't think you'd mind – I've been coming down here quite often. Professor Hagrid said it would be safe."

Remus groaned and made a mental note to have a few strong words with Hagrid, whose ideas of what was and wasn't safe differed greatly from those of most people. "Professor Hagrid is ten feet tall and has the constitution of a dragon. You're just a little girl, and there are many things in that Forest that are very far from _safe_!" He just managed to bite his tongue in time to stop himself saying _how_ he knew that. It wouldn't exactly help to maintain discipline.

Luna's lip trembled. "I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't mean to let you down, please believe me …" She looked so miserable at the thought that he might be disappointed with her that he felt his anger abate. He firmly resisted an urge to pat her head, and instead contented himself with dropping on his haunches to bring himself down to her level.

"That's all right, Luna," he said gently. "I just wanted to make sure you were all right, and got a little alarmed when I saw you here. As I said, I knew your mother, and I'm _quite_ sure she'd want me to see you didn't get hurt."

"Daddy says you have to take risks sometimes," she piped up unexpectedly. "If you want to find things out … or fight in a war, I suppose. Professor, isn't that what _Gryffindors_ do?"

"Well …" he said, taken aback. For once, Xenophilius was right. How to get across the difference? "There are risks and risks, Luna. Maybe when you're older, and have more skill in Defence, you'll be better equipped to handle an attack. But not now, eh?" He smiled at her. "And yes, we Gryffindors have a reputation, and, speaking as one, your courage does you credit. But I've _fought_ in a war … and believe me, it's not safe. I hope you never have to."

-----

"Moony, where have you been creeping off to these last few months? Have you finally got yourself a girlfriend?"

"No!" Fortunately, he'd been looking the other way when Sirius asked him, which gave him time to conceal his surprise from the others and prepare an answer. "What decent woman would look at me?"

Sirius sniggered. "Well, go for an _in_decent woman then. It's a strategy I can heartily recommend."

James' snort was audible from the opposite side of the room. "Padfoot, you pillock, I just knew you were going to say that. Nah, I heartily recommend this strategy – find the girl of your dreams, marry her, and start a family!"

"It's all right for you," mumbled Remus. "It's not that easy for _me_."

James had the grace to look chagrined. "Sorry, mate."

Sirius grinned. "Not everyone can be as sickeningly happily married as you, Prongs." His smile faded as he looked at Remus. "But you have been getting very secretive on us, old son."

"That's true," Peter piped up, sounding genuinely curious. "Sometimes we hardly see you for a week at a time, and you never tell us where you're going …"

Remus fought to keep his face neutral as Sirius nodded. "You don't want to go off on your own these days, Moony, not with Voldemort's lot wandering about loose. It's dangerous."

"They're right, you know," added James, fairly but – in the circumstances – unhelpfully. "I mean, even if Dumbledore's got you doing something, you need to be careful. You know I'd come with you if I could, but … well, Harry and Lily have to come first now, don't they?" There was a pleading note in his voice. "I can't just dump them to run around with you three like I used to."

"I can handle myself without big bad Padfoot and Prongs to look after me, you know," Remus said tetchily. Part of him wanted to shout his relationship with Marie to the four winds, but the caution and concealment learned from fifteen years of lycanthropy had taught him that it would be grossly unfair to her to inform even his best friends. They wouldn't tell anyone _maliciously_, of course – but even an inadvertent remark could mean utter disaster. No-one would want anything to do with a woman who had a _werewolf_ for a lover.

No, it was best if he kept silent. It was unfortunate that Sirius was too smart not to be suspicious; the only thing for it was to bluff it out, and hope that his friend came to some erroneous conclusion about the reason for Remus' behaviour. It couldn't possibly be worse than the real one.

-----

"What's the matter, Remus?"

"Nothing." He smiled at his wife in attempted reassurance. She didn't need to know that he was still obsessing over the fate of Luna Lovegood – locked away who knew where, suffering who knew what, if she was even still _alive_ …

"Bullshit." Remus winced; he wasn't sure if this was inherited Black directness, or simply if talking with Sirius had rubbed off on her. "You've been moping off and on for months. I don't mind you putting on a brave face for _Potterwatch_, but you _don't need_ to do it with me."

He looked at Tonks, desperately wanting to confide in her; but after all the stress he'd caused when she thought he didn't want her, she really wouldn't be happy to imagine _Luna_ occupying his thoughts. Better to give her some erroneous suggestion. "I'm worried about Harry." That should be convincing, and indeed, even true – it was bad enough that they hadn't heard so much as a credible rumour about him in months.

She gave him a wry smile. "That's not what you say on _Potterwatch_."

"_Potterwatch_ is there to give people a bit of hope. Oh, what I say on it about Harry is logical enough – but I still wish I knew what he was _doing_, if he's achieving whatever it was Dumbledore wanted him to do, how much hope we really have for a better life as a family than just hiding away here. James would have understood." He hesitated as old pains washed over him. "One thing the Potters have taught me is that you have to try and do the best for your kids. That Prophecy was James' worst nightmare – being powerless to protect his son – and I can understand how he felt now …"

"Our son will be fine, Remus." She reached out and hugged him, and moved one of his hands to her bump as he trembled. "_You're_ doing fine. Trust me. I trust you."

"Yes." He bit his tongue to stop himself adding 'for better or for worse'. All of the traditional vows he'd made were relevant, and he meant every one.

-----

The part where he came to his senses as his human form returned was always mortifying – the more so on this occasion, as he'd become used to retaining them on full moon nights after months of Severus' potions. He rose and took stock; naked, wandless, aching all over, lost somewhere in the Forbidden Forest, and with no idea if he had bitten somebody last night. Whichever way you looked at it, it wasn't good.

He sprang to his feet in alarm at the sound of something crashing through the trees, but fortunately it turned out to be Hagrid. He was carrying Remus' wand and a clean set of robes, and grinned when he saw him. "Mornin', Remus. Dumbledore told me yeh were in here, and sen' me to find yeh. Not too badly damaged?"

"I'm fine," said Remus, pulling on the robes with relief, and vowing that he would never again complain about his colleague. He almost didn't dare ask the obvious questions. "What happened after I … left last night? Is everyone all right?"

Hagrid's uncomfortable expression wasn't reassuring, although his words were. "Everyone's all righ', yeh didn't bite any of 'em." Giddy relief flooded through Remus. "But … well, a lot's happened. Black escaped again, and Snape's bin makin' trouble. I missed a lot of it, ter be honest with yeh. I'd better let Dumbledore explain it all."

"All right." As they trudged back to the school, another unpleasant thought struck Remus. "There wasn't anyone _else_ around near your hut, was there? I couldn't tell if I bit someone or not …"

"Not tha' I know of. Anyway, no-one comes down by the Forest much at night, apart from Dumbledore, and tha' Lovegood girl sometimes …"

Remus clutched his arm. "_Luna Lovegood?_" He'd never imagined Luna would be out last night! One blight on her life was more than enough. He hadn't seen her on the map, but then he'd left the castle well before moonrise … "She didn't come out here _last_ night, did she?"

Hagrid looked surprised. "I dunno, Remus. I was a bit – well, I'd bin celebratin'. I didn' see her. C'mon, yeh'd better get some breakfast. Yeh didn' … well, _eat_ anythin' last night?"

"No!" That, he _was_ sure about. He followed Hagrid into the Great Hall with trepidation, and the sight of Luna eating breakfast at the Ravenclaw table, alone but unharmed, was a glorious respite. There was no sign of Harry, Ron, or Hermione, but he could wait to talk to them. Snape looked up from a discussion he was having with some of his Slytherins and his face twisted in hatred as he saw Remus, but that could wait too.

He was buttering toast and paying scant attention to anything else, when suddenly there was a scream from the Slytherin table, followed by a sudden silence as everyone looked to see what it was about. Then Pansy Parkinson pointed at him and yelled the word he'd lived in dread of hearing all year. "He's a _WEREWOLF?_"

"Miss Parkinson, please be quiet!" snapped Snape, turning to Remus with a twisted smirk on his face. "I should not have said that. A slip of the tongue on my part …"

There was complete silence in the Great Hall now, and Remus could feel the eyes of everyone in the room staring at the staff table where he sat frozen. When a low, excited muttering broke out, he forced himself to rise and make his way slowly towards the doors.

As he passed the Ravenclaw table he couldn't resist the urge to look at Luna. He immediately regretted it – if he saw horror or disgust or condemnation in her eyes, he wasn't sure he could bear it, however merited it would be – but he was oddly proud to see that the girl seemed to be one of the few people in the room _not_ displaying any of those reactions. Indeed, she actually looked upset _for_ him, and that gave him a little unexpected warmth in his heart to counter the cold realisation of disaster.

He could have kissed her. But that was something he'd wanted to do for a long time anyway.

-----

"You're _what?_"

"Xeno and I are having a baby." Marie was so pale she looked as if she might faint, but she kept her chin up. "He's delighted, you know."

Remus was very glad that they had chosen a corner seat in the noisy Muggle café; his head was suddenly swimming so alarmingly that, if there hadn't been solid wall behind him, he might have fallen backwards. "But … are you sure?" It was his last, desperate hope.

She nodded, and the hope shrivelled and died. "I did the charm. It's a daughter. That's good. He's always wanted a daughter."

"And what about … us?" Remus asked thickly.

Marie smiled, and the expression on her face was so tender, so sad, and so tremulous, that Remus knew immediately it was the end. "Oh, Remus. You know … you know I care for you, but …"

"Not as much as Xenophilius," he finished bitterly.

"Far _more_ than Xenophilius!" Her eyes flashed, and he wondered if he was supposed to take what she'd said as some small consolation. It certainly didn't feel like it at the moment. "If all I had to worry about was you and me, I'd take my chances on us being found out! But I have … my _child_ to think about now. I want to do my best for her."

"And of course you shouldn't let someone like me anywhere near children!"

She sighed. "Oh Remus … you'd make a wonderful father. _I_ know that, _you_ know that." He didn't, but now wasn't the time to argue the point. "But you _know_ most people still don't think like that about werewolves. To hear them talk, you'd think you had blood dripping from your fangs even when you're _not_ transformed!" Remus winced as Marie's voice grew in volume, and he was glad that the song currently playing on the radio was particularly loud. "If they knew I'd been – well, _romantically involved_ – with you … well, pure-blood witches, we're not supposed to behave like that! They'd be disgusted with me, wouldn't they? It's not _fair_, you _know_ it's not fair, but they would! And they'd ostracise my _daughter_ too because of her mother, she'd never have a friend! They might even try to take her away from me!"

"Of course. Yes, you're quite right." Remus was amazed at how calm his voice was, how indifferent, almost cold. He had the feeling that if he allowed any emotion to creep into it, he would end up screaming. "And the experiments? Our attempts to make creatures like me less dangerous?"

"We'll have to stop," she said miserably. "They're not effective anyway, even Belby's saying now that the theory needs more work." Her eyes were swimming with tears as she stood up. "Maybe one day werewolves can have girlfriends and wives and children like anybody else, Remus. I really hope you get the chance with somebody else. But – oh, Remus, my dearest, dearest love – we can't see each other any more, can we? My place is with Xeno now. And … and with our child. So … _goodbye_."

She kissed him once, a kiss rich in longing and desperation, and walked unsteadily out into the crowds. Remus stared at the door of the café until it became obvious that she was not going to return. He could feel himself beginning to shake as reaction set in. Somehow, he managed to make it back home before he broke down completely.

Well, that was a lesson to him on what werewolves could and couldn't hope for! One he should have learned long ago – no, one he _had_ learned long ago, but should have _remembered_. There were very few people who would ever accept a werewolf; sooner or later you found yourself having to move on. This was just an object lesson to drive home the point.

-----

Remus listened attentively as Bill told them the secrets of Shell Cottage in careful phrasing. "… Bill and Fleur Weasley may be found at Shell Cottage, and as its Secret-Keeper I, Bill Weasley, bid you come there at any time there is need or emergency. It is also currently the location of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Dean Thomas, Antonius Ollivander, and Griphook the goblin, who are under its protection. Got that? We put a Fidelius in place as soon as Harry turned up. It was the only way we could think of to protect them all."

"Thanks, Bill," said Tonks quietly. "How are they?"

Bill became grim. "Hermione's very shaken; Bellatrix Lestrange had her under repeated Cruciatus." Tonks' expression also hardened, and Remus was sure that she was mentally adding one more score to the list she intended to settle with her aunt. "Harry, Ron, and the Thomas boy were all right, just cuts and bruises. Griphook's in a bad way, so's Ollivander, he'd been tortured off and on for more than a year. The Lovegood girl kept him going, I think – she's pure-blood, fortunately, both parents from a long line of wizards and witches, so they just locked her up and left her alone." Remus' heart leapt at this miraculous news; it meant Luna was safe and … undamaged. "We had to confirm that Xeno was in Azkaban; she was very cut up about that, but the Malfoys had already taunted her about it so it wasn't a total shock."

At that moment, Remus was prepared to dismiss Xenophilius' imprisonment as the fortunes of war. He didn't dare let his joy show in front of Tonks and Andromeda – their pain at the recent loss of Ted Tonks was still far too raw – but as Bill's words hit home his heart suddenly felt lighter than it had for months.

"They're _safe_!" he said to Tonks as soon as Bill left, grabbing her hands and spinning her round.

She caught his mood; he was glad to see her truly smile for the first time since Ted's death. "Harry did it again!"

"Yes. Yes, he did, he got them all out!" He had never felt so proud or so grateful towards his old friend's son before. "I wish there was something I could do to let him know how much I appreciate what he did …"

"How about we make him godfather to our baby?"

"Godfather?" The simplicity, the _normality_ of such a thing caught Remus unawares for a moment. "Yes – yes, of course! Why not? I want … I want to do the best for my child. I can't think of anyone I'd rather have as his godfather, to protect him if I'm not there."

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Looking on the positive side again?"

Remus reddened. "Well – you can't always guarantee you'll be there as a parent when your child needs you, can you?" He knew too well that there were times when there was absolutely nothing a parent could do but hope. "Just look at James and Lily, for a start. But let's hope for the best, eh?"

-----

Remus seized the opportunity of Dumbledore's arrival to take his leave from Harry; although he was glad to have had the chance to say goodbye to the boy, he didn't want his company as he made his way to the exit. He dawdled as he walked, hoping that he might yet have the chance to say one more set of goodbyes.

And there she was, sitting waiting by the now Dementor-free gates, gazing at him with sad, unblinking eyes.

"Luna." He smiled at her. "I hoped I might see you again."

"It's true then, Professor? You're really going? Just because you're a werewolf?"

He smiled more broadly at that 'just', and sat down beside her. "Yes, I'm afraid so. I think it's for the best, don't you?"

"I wish you could stay." There was a quiver in her voice. "You were really nice to me, and most people aren't. It was like having a … a friend at Hogwarts, or an uncle or something."

"I see." He didn't quite know what to say to that.

"I still trust you," she said unexpectedly. "I'll miss you."

Remus wasn't sure he trusted himself, now, not after last night, not now when he wanted to pick the girl up and hug her to him and never let go, but the vote of confidence was welcome, "Thank you, Luna. I'll miss you too." He hesitated for a moment. "I'm glad I had the chance to get to know you this year. I just wish I'd been able to spend more time with you."

"Maybe we'll meet again, Professor?" She sounded hopeful, and he nodded.

"Maybe. In a few years time perhaps, when you're grown up. I … I'd like that. You're a great girl."

Luna looked away. "Do you think there'll ever be anyone here at Hogwarts for me again?" she asked in a small voice.

Remus swallowed the lump that rose in his throat. "Oh, I'm sure there will be. Harry Potter and his friends are well worth knowing if you meet them." He patted her on the shoulder, as a clumsy but more acceptable alternative to a hug. "You'll find someone special for you eventually. I did."

-----

The short report in the _Daily Prophet_ telling of Marie Lovegood's accidental death in an experiment gone wrong was an unexpected, shattering blow that reopened an old wound.

The short message bearing a Gringotts security seal that arrived by owl shortly afterwards was an equally unexpected, equally shattering blow that opened up an entirely new one.

Remus held the letter, addressed in Marie's familiar, looping handwriting, for some time before opening it with shaking hands. It read simply:

_Remus, my dearest,_

_If you are reading this, then there is no more I am able to do for my daughter, except for this one thing – to tell you that I named her Luna for the obvious reason. It was all that I dared to do, however obliquely, to honour her father – a man who deserves far more honour than the world will ever grant to him, or allow to any child that he might acknowledge as his. In sadness, therefore, I trust that the reason for my daughter's name will never be obvious to anyone but you._

_Yours always,_

_Marie._

He stared at this terse missive for a long time; then, with a convulsive motion, he screwed it up and threw it into the fire. As the last corner blackened and crumpled, he sank into a chair and wept, bitter tears running down his face for the first time in eight years.

When the tears finally dried, he was unable to tell whether what he felt most strongly was appreciation that Marie had trusted him enough to let him know the secret after her death … or anger that she had never trusted him enough to tell him while she was alive. But still – he had a daughter.

He had a _daughter!_

A daughter that he would never be able to acknowledge, and most likely never meet, except in the unlikely event of him joining the staff of _The Quibbler_ – or being offered a teaching position at Hogwarts when she went there, which was the sort of event so unlikely that even _The Quibbler_ wouldn't print it.

He gazed into space and hoped devoutly that his daughter took after her mother.

-----

"I'm pretty sure my father would have wanted to know why you aren't sticking with your own kid, actually."

Remus had to take a few moments for the pain of that unexpected knife to the heart to fade. "You don't understand." The words were instinctive, and the worst of it was, Harry _couldn't_ understand, not unless Remus confided things that were every bit as secret as Harry's mission from Dumbledore …

"Explain, then."

What was there to explain? "I – I made a grave mistake in marrying Tonks …" The effects of the marriage on his wife's good name had driven home exactly why Marie had been right to insist that he keep Luna's parentage secret.

Unfortunately, Harry's next words just rubbed more salt in that open wound. Their sting was so intense, he barely realised what he was doing or saying.

"I've made her an outcast!" As Marie would have been. As Luna would be _now_, in terrible danger if anyone knew who her real father was. "What parents want their only daughter to marry a werewolf? And the child – the child –" He could no more be a proper father to an acknowledged child than to an unacknowledged one. "It will be better off, a hundred times so, without a father of whom it must always be ashamed!" That had been the unspoken message of Marie's final letter, even if not one she had intended. The thought was torture. It would have been better if he had never become involved with either woman; better to have stayed away from women altogether when he couldn't help but be bad for them; better by far indeed if he just got himself bumped off on a mission …

He dimly heard Hermione whisper placating words, but his secret hope was that Harry could find a counterargument, as his father would have.

"I'd be pretty ashamed of him."

His actual reply was like a slap in the face; Remus could feel himself losing control as they exchanged words like spells in a duel, until Harry's final line slashed at him like _Sectumsempra_.

"The man who taught me to fight Dementors – a coward."

When the red mist finally lifted, Remus looked around at his surroundings, noticing them clearly for the first time. A North Cornish cove that looked much the same as it had the last time he'd been here, except that this time the tide was coming in. Fond memories indeed. His memories of his more recent activities were hazier; as he calmed down, he remembered Apparating here for no good reason, except to be alone, remembered storming out of the house in Grimmauld Place, remembered – with a dawning sense of horror – casting some kind of violent spell on the Boy Who Lived.

Wonderful.

A boy – no, a _man_ – who had only affected him so badly because the words he spoke had the ring of truth.

Remus remained oblivious to the salt water beginning to wash around his ankles as he thought it over. He'd had seven years to get used to the idea of being a father with Marie, a fatherhood without consequences or responsibilities or even the opportunity for them. He'd had barely seven days to get used to the idea of being a father with Tonks, a fatherhood with consequences and responsibilities and opportunities that were quite terrifying.

Yes, 'coward' had been _exactly_ the right word.

He looked down in surprise; the water was now beginning to cover the tops of his boots. It was time to leave; time to go … _home_, and it hit him that this time, he _had_ a home. He had a wife of his _own_ who could, and would, stand by him, and shout their relationship to the four winds, and tell the world that the baby was his. And although that thought was indeed terrifying … Harry was right, just as his father had been right.

That home was where Remus belonged, and he had to do the best he could for his new child, just as he had tried to with Luna.

There was no need to tell Tonks any of this, of course. He could just say quite truthfully that it had taken him several days to find Harry, Ron, and Hermione and deliver the news. He was learning that sometimes, cowardice was the better part of valour for a married man.

-----

"Harry, round up the others and GO!"

Remus wished he could help Harry follow the advice he'd just yelled at him, but there was nothing he could _do_, no respite from fighting, no chance to help the people he cared about escape, as he and Lucius Malfoy hurled spells at each other. And then the images seemed to flash and blend together; Malfoy falling – Dumbledore arriving – Sirius – _SIRIUS!_ – sinking almost gracefully through the Veil – Harry shrugging him off and racing after Bellatrix … _Tonks!_ Where was she … no, blessed relief, she was all right, Moody was looking after her … he should go, should help Harry, but no, Dumbledore was more than capable of taking care of that …

Instead he staggered queasily into the next room and found four injured teenagers, three of them unconscious. He sedated an awake but rambling Ron Weasley, and quickly determined that the injuries to Hermione and Ginny required more Healing skill to treat safely than he felt confident of displaying under the circumstances.

Instead, heart in mouth, he went over to where Luna Lovegood lay slumped on the floor, and felt an almost giddy sense of relief when a few diagnostic spells revealed that she was suffering from nothing worse than bruising and a mild concussion. He'd been terrified for her ever since the arrival of Snape's Patronus

He sat down beside her, pointed his wand at her forehead and muttered, "_Enervate_."

She came to with a groan, blinked fuzzily, and then stared at him, her eyes even more prominent than usual. "Pro – Professor _Lupin_?" she said, surprise and uncertainty written across her face. "What happened? How are Harry and the others?"

"They're going to be all right," he said reassuringly, and fought the impulse to cross his fingers. "How about you?"

"Oh, I feel a bit rough, you know." There was a hint of tears in her eyes now. "I'm sorry, Professor, I didn't have enough skill in Defence. I couldn't get to all the doors in time, I couldn't keep them out …"

He held up a hand to halt the flow of self-recrimination. "You did _fine_, Luna. You kept them out long enough for us to get here. You should be proud of yourself."

"I should?"

"_Yes._ Luna, I'm … well, I think your mother would be proud of you too."

He hesitated, then put his arm around her shoulders; he was surprised but gratified when she leaned into him and it became a hug, as his daughter unknowingly clung to her father for comfort.

-----

Once he got over the euphoria of holding his newborn son in his arms – and had congratulated his wife and hugged her and his mother-in-law – his first thought was to shout the news to the four winds, to yell it from the rooftops, to tell the world.

Or at least – under the current dire circumstances – to tell their friends in the Order.

He had a child. _Another_ child. A son. He had a _son!_ And he was determined that this time, he would _acknowledge_ the child. And _this_ time, the mother of his child was determined that he _should_.

It was terrifying and impossible and wonderful all at once.

Remus arrived at Shell Cottage in a daze, his happiness only increased by the ecstatic reaction to his news, and still more by the way Harry had forgiven him enough to accept the role of godfather. He allowed himself to be persuaded to have a glass of wine, and then a refill, and then one more … If he never had another such night, at least he could say that he had finally experienced the joy of being a parent, and of being _accepted_ as one among people who knew he was a werewolf, and yet did not care.

The fact that Luna was happy for him too was bittersweet – after all, she now had a brother, although it was clear that she had no inkling of that fact. But as he watched her out of the corner of his eye, saw her beaming, heard her calmly defend one of her 'Daddy's' claims to a mildly sceptical Dean, he could not find it in his heart to tell her.

It was finally sinking in that it would, quite simply, be _wrong_ of him to make himself feel better by telling her now; a cruel and selfish act, shattering everything she thought she knew about her parents – and for that matter, about Remus. Why risk hurting her now, just when she was finding the acceptance he was sure she had longed for? Just as he himself had once craved it, and had the great good fortune to find it not once but _twice_ in his life.

He stayed with his friends a lot longer than he meant to, but when he finally waved away the offer of yet another goblet of wine and got up to leave, it was with a lightness of heart that came from making an important decision. He knew now that his _new_ family had to be his priority; James would surely have told him in no uncertain terms that he had to care for them and let Luna go – as would Harry if he knew – and they would be right.

As much as he cared for his daughter, he had never been able to be there for her as she grew up. She had never really been his to care for. And if the hug he gave her before leaving was a trifle tighter and held a little longer than the ones he gave to Fleur or Hermione, that was just his way of letting go.

Because Teddy _was_ his to care for. With him, he intended to be a _proper_ father. One who would always be there for his child as he grew up.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Notes:**

Originally written for the **omniocular** 'Totally Not Badfic Challenge' on Livejournal. The prompt was: 'Harry/Hermione/Luna is really the child of Regulus Black/Remus Lupin/Sirius Black/Bellatrix Lestrange' (the original prompter did confirm that the slashes meant 'OR', not a story about unexpected consequences from a foursome!).

The Remus-Luna combination seemed like it might fly, based partly on the name, and partly on the fact that it required less canon upheaval to make it fit. Also, of course, the opportunities for analogies with Teddy were there. It does take canon's Mr Angsty and tip another truckload of angst into his life, but then, although this is hopefully canon-compatible, I'm hardly claiming that it's anything like JKR's backstory!

Thanks to **muggle-prof** for betaing this story.


End file.
